hrink before a figure of
paint!"

The Medicine Man threw up his arms in a transport of rage.

"They laugh! The white men smile at the sacred totem!" he cried in a
wild appeal to the sympathies of the people, who began to respond with
disapproving murmurs. "Shall it be that the fiery serpent hear laughing
tongues while the hands of the Dacotahs are idle? _Who_ are they that
dare to revile our sacred sign with mocking eyes and tongues?"

Matters were beginning to assume a serious aspect towards the strangers,
for evidently the Medicine Man was one whose lead was followed by his
people, and who knew well how to play upon their weaknesses. So Arnold
hastened to try and pacify the anger that he had inadvertently roused.

"My red brother mistakes," he said, addressing Thunder-maker. "The white
man's laughter was at the suggestion of fear. We are brave men who fear
nothing. But we did no insult to the totem of the Dacotahs----"

"Dogs!" exclaimed the furious Indian. "Dogs! The fiery totem has been
defiled. Revenge, my brothers! Revenge! lest the names Dacotah and
Mighty Hand become things for jeers and laughter in the women's tents!"

The Indian was quite frantic with passion, and as he flung his wild
appeal to his people the murmurs suddenly burst into a flood of angry
roars--knives were snatched from their sheaths, a hundred arms were
lifted, and the circle quickly closed upon the helpless men. But just at
that moment of peril and almost inevitable death, the great figure of
Mighty Hand was seen to start. He stepped forward with one stride,
turned his back upon the captives, and then raised his arms, from which
his robe hung like great protecting wings that shielded the strangers
beneath their folds. And his voice rang out above the angry clamour
like the voice of a wind roaring through the pine forests.

"Back, Dacotahs! Back to your tents ere the strength of Mighty Hand is
lifted and you sink to the dust! Is this how the redman treats the
stranger who would smoke the peace-pipe by our fire? Is this the welcome
that my braves give to those whom Mighty Hand has received with a
smile--with no arms in his hand, no tomahawk at his belt? Back, dogs!
and hide your coward faces like frightened papooses in the skirts of the
women!"

The clamour ceased instantly. The men hung back, and their heads bent
with shame, that is, all heads but that of Thunder-maker. His face
betokened no shame. Nay, greater fury than ever was depic